All Made Up for April Fool's Day
by dietbeverage
Summary: America is finally able to pull a good prank on England this April Fool's Day! USUK, fluff, oneshot, and rated for language. NOW WITH BONUS SEQUEL CHAPTER! (or something).
1. Just a Regular Saturday

**Hey, this is my first story! OH YEAH!**

**I really hope you like this, it may not be very great, but I worked really hard!**

**As this is my first, I would like to dedicate this to my friend, Spamano!**

**Obviously this isn't her name; I changed it for reasons of secrecy. ;)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

England was dreaming. He was having an extremely philosophical conversation with Uni about the magical properties of wisdom teeth when he heard a knocking at the door. He excused himself and went to answer it. Upon opening the door, America jumped at him, pressing a kiss to England's lips. Slowly, he ran his tongue over them. He then went on to his cheeks and brushed swift kisses on each side. His hands drifted up to wipe away England's tears of surprise. America pecked each eyelid, nudging them closed.

"America-no, Al, I-I never knew… you actually like me back?"

America took England's hands, stroking his fingers.

"Of course, "he whispered.

England choked at a loss for words, but eventually they came.

"I… I love you so much, Alfred." He smiled.

However, the smile was wiped off his face and replaced with an expression of concern as America began to back away.

"America, wait, don't go!" But he was already gone.

Arthur woke with a jolt. It was dawn; faint light poked through the curtains of his apartment window. The TV hummed in the living room.

Oh yeah, America had come over to stay last night. Apparently his air conditioner had stopped working last night.

At the thought of the nation, England remembered the dream. He could feel heat rising to his cheeks.

"No, it's too early to be fretting over a dream!" He scolded himself.

All the same, though, it had felt so _real._

* * *

America looked at the clock hinging from the wall in Arthur's living room. The time was 6:00. He smiled and began taking out containers out of backpack quickly. He only had an hour until his victim should wake up.

Quietly, he snuck up to the door of England's bedroom. America slowly pushed the door open and peeked inside. The 23-year-old nation was sound asleep, mouth hanging slightly open. He stepped into the room, leaving the door open in case of the need for a quick escape.

America silently snuck up to England and placed his supplies on the floor. He exchanged glances between them and England, mapping out the perfect way to execute his masterpiece. Arthur lay quietly in bed, softly mumbling. America laughed to himself. In an hour, the sleeping nation would be iced like a cake.

He selected his first weapon: a tube of bright pink lipstick. America uncapped it quietly and placed it to England's lips. He spread it carefully across, trying to get it as nice looking as possible.

Next, he took a palate of blush and opened it, smirking. He took a brush and swiped England's cheeks, leaving subtle patches of red on his face.

America looked back at his tools and selected a small capsule of liquid eyeliner. He unscrewed the cap and painted the edges of England's eyes, leaving a small cat eye stroke at the tips. Then he proceeded to take a container of eye shadow out. Taking a much smaller brush than he did for the blush, he spread a silver color over the closed eyelids of his friend, afterwards adding and blending in a few different shades of brown.

Al stepped back to admire his work. Perfect; the makeup actually looked as if it had been purposely put on! He cupped a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter.

His finished product looked great, yet Alfred felt he could add to it. He checked the clock at England's bedside. It was only 6:28… there was still time for one last touch.

America slowly lifted the covers to reveal England's hands. He took them into his own, eyeing a bottle of light pink, skin colored nail polish. He grinned and opened the bottle.

Trying to do the best job he could as fast as he could, America covered the nation's finger nails with the foul-smelling slime. It burned his nose, but he knew it would wear off in a few minutes.

After the last nail was dry, he capped the bottle. England twitched, sending the signal to America that he was dreaming. He started to gather his things when he heard his friend mumble.

"I…veyou...ooAl…"

America stopped, slowly turning his head. Arthur was still sleeping; he sighed in relief.

Quietly, he exited the room, swinging the door closed behind him. He walked into the kitchen and found the cabinet above the stove, containing the stash of England's tea. America opened it and carried the tea to his backpack.

He looked at the clock once again. 6:53. America congratulated himself on his good timing and flipped the TV on, flopping himself down onto the sofa.

"Happy April Fool's Day, Artie," he laughed.

* * *

England groggily climbed out of bed. It was 7:12. He headed to his closet, selecting a brown shirt and jeans. It was Saturday; his looks didn't matter too much, so he decided to skip showering. Instead, he trudged out into the living room. America was snoring on the couch, even though the TV was on. England laughed. America was usually so composed (despite being quite loud and obnoxious at times), and seeing him like this, so…vulnerable, was quite the sight.

England made his way to the kitchen, bumping his knee on a bookshelf on the way due to a lack of caffeine. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he opened up his tea cupboard to find…

Nothing?

England stared into the cabinet. "Strange," he mumbled, "I swear I had bought some more tea yesterday… I'm only 23, but maybe I really _am_ an old man…"

He went back to the living room.

"Hey, America! Wake up! I'm going to the store!"

America stirred, then went back to sleep. England leaned up right next to his ear and yelled.

"ALFRED F. JONES! WAKE UP! I'M GOING OUT!"

He jolted awake, eyes wide open.

"Imupimupiswearillgetupsorrys orry!"

England glared at him.

"Hey, git. I'm going to the store-out of tea."

America turned to face him, stared for a bit, then started making a half choked, half laugh sound.

"What? You okay?"

America turned away, still… coughing? "Sorry, dude, just choked on some spit! It's nothing!"

England sighed, then went to the doorway to put on some shoes. He grabbed his wallet and keys and opened the door to his flat.

"I'll be back in around… 20 minutes," he said. "Don't let anyone you don't know into the flat."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm not ten…"

England let out a "hmmph" and closed the door.

He walked tiredly down the hall to the lift and pressed the button to call one. He waited, wondering why he hadn't bought tea the day before. The doors opened with a "bing" and England stepped inside.

He stood in silence for a couple of floors until the doors opened again. A boy and a girl walked in, chatting away. However, when they looked at England, they suddenly fell silent. The boy had orange hair and a face full of freckles. The girl had darker red hair and wore a neatly pressed plaid skirt. They looked away, cheeks tinges scarlet. Eventually, the boy began giggling quietly. The girl tried to shush him.

"Shush, Connor!" she hissed, trying to be as quiet as possible. "That's so rude!"

"Sorry, can't help it. You think it's funny too, Aileen."

The girl blushed harder and covered her face.

They stood there in the awkward silence for 10 more floors until they stopped at the bottom. All three of them quickly exited the lift, very much eager to escape the tension.

England walked outside. It was slightly chilly, and the clouds hung in the air, as they always did in London. He made his way down the street to a little corner store. He felt fine, as if there was nothing to be ashamed of, but something in the back of his head made him worry that there should be. Perhaps it was the numerous strange looks the people gave him as he waked on.

England stopped at the store, named "_Magasin Général_"- French for General Store. He stepped inside and a little bell chimed. "Morning," he grumbled to France, who was working the cash register. He was reading some cheesy romance novel. Upon closer inspection, England saw the title: _Fifty Shades Darker_. England shuddered.

"Morning, Arthur," he said, not looking up from his novel (if you could even call it that).

He scanned a shelf for some tea bags. Picking out a small box of English Breakfast, he went to the counter and put down his item. France picked it up and scanned them, only glancing quickly at the price.

"Your total will be 6.98. Will that be cash or cred-"

France now stared England full in the face. Suddenly he burst out laughing.

"_Cher__seigneur__, en Angleterre!_ How was the journey out of the closet?"

England tensed. "Bloody hell, you can't call me by that in public! And I have no idea what the hell you are talking about! I haven't come out of the closet, nor have even the slightest need to!"

France tried to compose himself. "You honestly don't know? _Comment pourriez-vous ne saves pas_?"

"Francis, please, I haven't got my tea yet and it's 7:30 in the morning. Please talk to me in English."

France smirked and handed him a mirror. "I don't think I need to say anything."

England took it with suspicion and looked into it. A (very well) made up face looked straight back at him.

You could hear the scream a block away, and this is _London_ we're talking about.

* * *

England swung open the door.

"ALFRED F. JONES! I KNOW IT WAS YOU, YOU BLOODY FUCK!"

Al just smiled and picked a book off the shelf, flipping through the pages.

"Why England, whatever are you talking about?"

England slammed the door and marched up to America, grabbing the book out of his hands and staring him straight in the face.

"MY BLOODY FACE, ALFRED! YOU CAME ALL THE WAY OVER TO MAKE ME LOOK LIKE SOME TEENAGE GIRL!?"

Alfred kept on smiling innocently. "Are we using human names then? Well, Arthur, it _has_ come to my attention that your face looks _slightly_ different today… but it looks good! Did you trim your eyebrows or something?"

England pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just… god, just nevermind."

He went to wash his face. When the door to the bathroom closed, America choked a little, then it all came out. He just stood and laughed and laughed until finally he heard a yell.

"Dammit, Al! This is extremely hard to get off!" He laughed some more.

Finally, England emerged, face red from both embarrassment and ten minutes worth of scrubbing.

"Do you at least have my tea?" he asked with a hint of desperation in his voice.

America grinned sheepishly. "Yeah…" He handed England the boxes.

He grabbed them with a scowl. As he headed to the kitchen, America, heard numerous curses sent his way, both magical and just plain swearing.

The minutes proceeding were filled with a tense silence. England had put the kettle on, and America had taken to looking at the pictures hanging on the walls. He'd seen them millions of times before, but nonetheless he loved to look at them. They showed a time of happiness, as most of the pictures were of them when they were younger, specifically _before_ the Revolutionary War. Arthur wore a huge smile in all of them. Even though it was kind of embarrassing, America really wished that Arthur would smile like that more often.

The kettle began to scream, but England stood in the kitchen, staring off into the depths of space. After about a minute, America began to lose it.

"Dude, you gonna get that? My ears are beginning to bleed."

England snapped back to reality. "Oh, sorry," he mumbled, taking the kettle off the heat.

"America…just…why?" he choked.

America let out a small laugh. "You actually forgot what day it is?"

England shot him a frustrated glare. "I don't know, Saturday? What's so special about that?"

America face palmed. "Bro, its April Fool's Day!"

England's look of anger was soon replaced by one of anxiety. He walked slowly out of the kitchen and into the living room, picking up his desk calendar. He moaned, seeing that, yes, it was April Fool's Day, and yes, America had just pulled a really good prank.

"I can't believe I didn't see this… no wonder you unexpectedly show up, asking to stay the night! You always go to Canada's house if something's wrong! Bloody hell, I am so stupid! I bet your air conditioner is working perfectly fine!"

America watched the nation pace around, mumbling to himself, hands balled up into fists. Eventually, he just sighed and slumped onto the sofa. He pointed a finger at America.

"You. Suck." He said into a pillow.

America sat down beside him.

"Actually, no I don't. You always pull off better pranks than me! For once, I actually got you. Admit it, I did a damn good job at it, too. I'm surprised you didn't wake up!"

England reddened, remembering his dream. "Well, at the time, I _was_ having a really nice dream…"

"Oh man! You fell so hard into my trap!" America laughed, making his friend blush even harder.

"I guess I did." He said.

"You looked _hilarious_!"

England felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips. He fought it, but it was persistent. "It was a _little_ funny…"

"More like extremely funny! Oh my god, when you burst in, looking all mad and shit with your prettied up face! Absolutely priceless!"

England gave in. "You should've _seen_ some of the looks I got!"

America's grin must've stretched past his ears. "Dude, what happened while you were gone?"

"Well," England told him of the funny stares he had been given.

"And then, he handed me the mirror and I looked in it, and I saw myself in all that makeup! I was so confused, but then I realized that people were staring at me because I looked so stupid in it. Bloody hell, I screamed so loud, but now that I think about it, it _was_ pretty funny!"

They both laughed and laughed, finding the prank funnier by the minute.

"You know," England said, trying to recover from the fit of laughter, "I bet France'll have told just about a million people by now."

America breathed in, clutching his chest.

"Yeah, sorry about that…" He grinned cheekily.

England sighed. "Well, I guess it's about time I came out anyway."

America blinked in surprise.

"Wait… what?"

"You heard the first time."

America grew still. He gave a nervous cough.

"Oh, okay."

England stood up and started for the kitchen to resume making his tea. However, America suddenly stood up and grabbed his arm.

"Wait!" he exclaimed. "I-I want to make it up to you, about the pranking, I mean…"

England felt the heat rise up to his face.

"Oh, you don't have to do-"

"Arthur, please." His grip tightened, and England blushed even harder at the use of his human name.

"But-"

He was cut off – not by words, but by the fact that America had leaned forward and kissed England on the lips. He tensed with shock. He didn't know what to think. England had always wanted this to happen, but he had always thought of it as a crazy dream and now that it was actually happening, he couldn't move. However, his emotions took over his anxiety and he returned the kiss, closing his eyes and leaning in closer. America's grip loosened and he moved from England's wrist to his hand, entwining it in his own. His other hand moved to England's back, pulling him closer. He pulled back, though, but only for a moment to catch his breath, then went right back, this time running his fingers through America's golden locks. Every single ounce of sexual tension that previously existed was now thrown out the window. Nothing mattered to them but the other.

In fact, they were so absorbed in kissing each other that when a certain Frenchman knocked on the door to return a forgotten wallet, they failed to notice. After being ignored for the 5th time knocking, France peeked through the little door window. An enormous grin spread across his face and he pulled out his phone, quickly turning on the camera.

Deciding that two minutes and 17 pictures of national intimacy was enough, he saved his findings and sent it to every nation on his contact list. (Basically, that's every county that has ever been a part on the Earth.) "_Poisson d'avril_," he whispered and dropped England's wallet through the mail slot, sniggering.

* * *

America broke away, his arms still wrapped around England's waist. The Englishman had a huge smile on his face.

"You should smile like that more often; it really suits you." America laughed, causing England to blush.

"Oh, shut up," he whispered.

"I love you," America said, kissing England on the nose.

"I love you too," he replied.

America then noticed something a couple of feet away, sitting at the foot of the front door.

"Hey Artie, is that your wallet?"

England turned around. As America had said, his wallet was lying on the ground on the welcome mat.

"Huh," he said, picking it up. "I thought I had accidentally left this at the store, but I guess"

A note fell out of the wallet and into his hand. In elaborate and loopy cursive, it read:

_Angleterre,_

_You left your wallet at the store. Don't worry, I didn't take anything. However, I couldn't help but notice the beautiful show you and __Amérique were putting on when I came to return it. I knew you had a thing for him, but next time, try not to be as oblivious to your surroundings the next time you decide to sort out your unresolved sexual tension. I knocked FIVE TIMES._

_Avec amour,_

_France ;)_

_PS: I've recorded around two minutes of your performance, plus pictures. I may or may not have sent them out in a mass text. 3_

England went pale.

"Oh dear lord…"

America took the note and read it for himself.

"Holy crap…"

England let out a choked laugh.

"Well, we're screwed!"


	2. Then Came the World Summit

The countries sat around the huge table, a quiet murmur hanging in the air. They chatted, waiting for the last two countries to show up: America and England. Germany checked the clock on the wall for what must've been the hundredth time. It was 10 minutes past the time when the meeting should have started. Suddenly, the doors burst open.

"Yo everyone, the hero has arrived!"

The faint talking that had been going on immediately stopped. Everyone glanced around nervously. A few countries started to laugh, while others blushed and turned away. Most, however, just sat and stared at America, minds racing at around a million miles an hour.

Someone else stepped through the doorway.

"Sorry I'm late, everyone. I'm afraid a certain American was distracting me along the way."

More nations began to snigger. Hungary quietly got a few tissues out of her bag, handing some to Japan as well. North Italy whispered excitedly to Germany, the same being said for Poland and Lithuania. Canada buried his face into Kumajirou's fir, blushing profusely. Spain, France, Romano, Denmark, Cuba and Turkey had hands cupped over their mouths, but you could tell they were all trying hard not to laugh. Sweden, Greece, Switzerland, Austria, China, Russia, Norway, Iceland, and most everyone else tried to keep a straight face, but on the inside, many were pretty embarrassed.

America glanced around.

"Hey, I dunno why you all are staring, but I think that maybe we should start the meeting, right?"

A few muttered agreements and nervous throat clearing could be heard echoing in the large room. The late nations sat down.

"Well then," Germany said, "now that we've got that settled, I would like to open the meeting with my reports on the issue of the education system."

Even though America usually felt the need to give his opinion right away, he suddenly got the feeling that in this awkward silence, it would be extremely inappropriate. He slumped onto the table, tapping away on the wood with his fingers, becoming more and more uninterested with the presentation as it went by. Halfway through Germany's talk, Canada poked him.

"Psst, hey America!" he whispered.

"Huh?" America whispered back. "Wassup, bro?"

Canada mumbled something, a blush spreading across his face.

"Dude, I can't hear you," America pointed out.

Canada sighed. "I asked if the video that France had sent me was real or not."

America blinked. Video? "What video?"

"Oh, um..." Canada coughed nervously. "You know, the video with you and England..."

England turned to the sound of his name. "What is it?"

Canada was as red as a tomato. "The video of you and him making out! I got it on April Fool's day, so it seemed like a prank, but all the same, it looked pretty real! Was it or was it not?"

An awkward silence filled the room, as it was highly unusual for Canada to yell, especially during a meeting. Secretly, everyone thanked Canada for asking the question that they had all wanted to ask. America and England, however, were pale.

"I-I...um...that was, well..." America muttered, cheeks beginning to become tinged with pink.

England stood up suddenly, growing red as well.

"I have to... uh, sorry, please excuse me, I have to leave..." he said, then dashed out of the room.

America glanced around with anxiety. "Uh... me too!" and he ran out as well.

Everyone sat in silence until someone spoke up.

"Oh my god! I like totally have a fabulous idea! We should follow them, like spies or something!"

Now everyone stared at Poland.

"Ve~ that sounds fun!"

"Oh my gosh, Japan, we have to go! This is the opportunity of the century!"

"Spying sounds fun. Maybe they will be doing the sex, _da_?"

"That's gross, aru! ...But I am curious..."

"Hey Romano, we can give them pointers, _si_?"

"SHUT UP, TOMATO BASTARD! GODDAMMIT, WE'RE IN PUBLIC!"

"Well, let's go then! Come on Liet!"

At once, all the nations raced to follow them, even the less enthusiastic ones. They ran silently down the hall, Poland in the lead. Suddenly he stopped.

"SHHH! They're in here!" he leaned up against the door of a janitor's closet. Everyone did the same, crowding the door. They could hear voices.

"America, why did you follow me? Now everyone's bound to know!"

"Hey, I was embarrassed, too! And besides, didn't you say that you were thinking about coming out of the closet anyway?"

"Not like this! God damn, fuck France and his bloody awful excuse for humor!"

"Well, look on the bright side..."

"Bright side? I don't see one, as we seem to be in a dark closet lacking a light bulb."

"Exactly... and we're alone..."

"Oh, really? I swear I could've seen Egypt waltzing around earlier, or was that a trick of the light which is conveniently absent from this room?"

"Dude, can you quit it with the sarcasm? Anyway, we're in a dark closet, alone, and, well..."

"Honestly, spit it out America!"

"Let's do it."

Many countries doubled over in silent laughter. Canada gagged and stepped away from the door, while Hungary and Japan had did the complete opposite, leaning closer to the door, chanting, "Yes, yes, yes, yes..." over and over again.

"Amer-uh, Alfred, we're at a meeting, a _world_ meeting!"

"Not anymore, we're not..."

* * *

Twenty minutes had passed. Most of the nations had made themselves comfy by seating themselves around the closet door. Others, who had been too disturbed by the idea of listening to the two country's romancing, had gone back to the meeting room. However, Germany, Switzerland, Austria, Norway, Iceland, Estonia, Canada and Egypt had all found that trying to hold an eight country world meeting with the issue of America and England pressing on their minds created a rather tense atmosphere, thick with an awkward silence.

Meanwhile, South Korea had hooked up a stethoscope-looking device to the door, making the "activities" inside audible to everyone. Romano, France, and Spain were all giggling madly, while Hungary and Japan had already gone through one and a half boxes of tissues. Poland whispered excitedly away to Lithuania, who had been forced to stay and listen against his own will. Russia, who had been previously (and creepily) been enjoying the affair, was now crying silently to himself because Belarus had latched onto his arm, whispering, "This will be us one day, Big Brother..."

Suddenly, China whispered loudly, "Aiyaa! Listen!"

Everyone shut up to listen to what came out, or rather, what wasn't coming out of the little speaker. The noises that had been streaming out had ceased.

"What's wrong, America?"

"Well, I was thinking that maybe moving to a more... comfortable place would be nice,"

"That _does_ sound preferable..."

A wave of panic washed over the crowd.

"Crap!" said Sealand, who had, along with Latvia, begged to be allowed to stay and listen (much to everyone's uneasiness and slight disgust), "If England finds out that I was listening to him get it on, he'll kill me for sure!"

He rushed out of the hall and back to the meeting room.

"I think Sealand's got the right idea," said a nervous Italy. "Ve~, should probably get out of here!"

Many countries nodded in agreement, but France stopped them.

"_Non_, stay! I want to see the look on _Angleterre's _face when he sees that he and _Amérique_ had an audience the whole time! Ohonhonhon, _ce__sera inestimable__!"_

Whether they wanted to leave or not, they all froze as they heard the doorknob turn. England opened it, facing away from the crowd. His clothes were wrinkled. He gestured out behind him.

"See? I told you there was no one here!"

America peeked over his shoulder and went pale white. "A-Arthur, I-uh-you-um…_turn around_."

He did and, like America, his face took on a ghostly hue.

"I…um… _this isn't what it looks like_!"

Romano sniggered. "Actually, yes, it's exactly what it looks like, Emperor of the Eyebrows!"

"Good one," whispered France.

"Shut up, you wine sucking pervert," Romano hissed.

"Yes, well," England said, voice dripping with malice, "if we are all finished calling each other names, may I please ask why you all have situated yourselves in a hallway, specifically _this_ hallway?"

"Oh, like it isn't obvious," Poland stated, bluntly. "You were practically _asking_ to be followed when you both rushed out the door! I thought, '_hey, this would be, like, hilarious if we followed them,'_ so I was all, 'Oh my god, guys we should totally like do just that!' and they were all, 'Oh my god, yes!' And here we are!"

Lithuania face palmed.

"Yes, and what a magnificent time it has been, both inside and out of that closet!" France purred.

All England could do was stare open-mouthed at the crowd of nations gathered in the hallway. America was now full faced red, muttering to himself and looking down at the floor. Self-consciously he tried to straighten his clothing, wiping at a wet spot on his shirt.

The air was practically _dripping _with tension. A few people shifted uneasily, only now realizing that what they did _was_ kind of rude. Finally, England spoke up.

"Look," he said, uncomfortably. "I am willing to forgive the rather disgusting fact that you all went out of your way just to listen to two countries _shag_ if we all can agree jut to forget that any of this ever happened."

Many nations were more than happy to oblige if it meant getting out of England's hair; however, a few became displeased at the request.

"Forget? How could I forget the most amazing yaoi I've ever heard?! I object!" cried Hungary.

"_Si_, it'd be pretty hard to forget something _that_ intense. _Dios mío,__ustedes dos__iban__en él_!"

"Remembering today _would_ be favorable…" muttered Japan.

England quickly became red. "H-have you all no shame?"

France pouted. "Shame? What about yourself?! You were sexing it up in a closet, and in the middle of a meeting, a _world_ meeting! And you say I'm a sex-craved, perverted slime of a man!"

England threw his hands in the air.

"Fine then! Fuck all of you!"

"It seems you've already done so to one of us,_ da_?" Russia chuckled at his joke.

England stared at him, knitting his brows together. America sighed and took his hand.

"Let's go," he whispered.

Being dragged down the hall, England whipped out the one finger salute. Nobody said a word, accepting the gesture with shame. The pair rounded the corner. Suddenly, a mischievous look spread across France's face. He ran to the end of the hallway and yelled.

"Hey, at least you don't have to worry about coming out of the closet; that's exactly what you just did!" He doubled over with laughter, joined by a few other countries.

"Believe you me, France; you are going to get a lethal dose of cursing tonight! This whole mess is your fault!" England shouted.

"Oh please," France teased. "With all the action going on in your bedroom tonight, it'll be a miracle if you actually remember your petty threats! _Amusez-vous__, __épais sourcils__!__"_

* * *

The next day, people all over France spat out their food. Cries rang out through the streets.

_"Quelle horreur!"_

_"C'est terrible!"_  
_"Qu'est-il arrivé à notre nourriture?"_

_"C'est comme si un Anglais fait cuire!"_


End file.
